


speak now, or forever hold yoUr peace

by Paravellex



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Depression, F/F, F/M, Insomnia, Jealousy, Leonard Cohen - Freeform, Loneliness, Sadstuck, Self-Loathing, Textual Lyricstuck, Weddings, tori amos - freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-19 10:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paravellex/pseuds/Paravellex
Summary: John and Roxy are getting married, and Calliope is the officiant! Isn't it romantic?This takes place within the continuity of Through Shadowed Eyes, and the two works complement and provide context for each other, but neither is necessary to understand the other.
Relationships: Calliope/Roxy Lalonde, John Egbert/Roxy Lalonde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	speak now, or forever hold yoUr peace

**Author's Note:**

> The bulk of this fic is a retelling of [Through Shadowed Eyes, Chapter 11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972756/chapters/53198626), but you don't need to read that to understand this.
> 
> While reading the final section, I recommend you listen to the linked song.

The apartment is quiet now.

That was the hardest thing to get used to. Not the way everything would always be in the exact position it was left in. Or the need to halve all the ingredients when cooking. Or the cold, without another body to give off heat, either ambiently or through a warm hug.

It was the silence. The still absence of conversation, of footsteps, of breathing.

Calliope straightens her bowtie in the mirror, wishing Roxy were there to adjust it for her. She’d probably ask Calliope if she felt ready. Then she’d probably have a joke to tell, something about human fashion looking best on cherubs. Then she’d call her beautiful.

Toward the end of their time together, Calliope was almost ready to believe that she could be right. Now the thought just makes her sigh. She’s literally a skull monster, what could be beautiful about that? Roxy must have seen something that wasn’t really there. She wanted to make Calliope feel better about herself, because that’s the kind of person she is, and maybe she even convinced herself. But all the kind words in the world couldn’t make a cherub’s body stop being ugly.

There’s not much to herself in most other respects, either, Calliope thinks while adjusting the lapel of her suit. She’s not funny in the slightest. She’s not powerful or brave, she needs others to do all her fighting for her. She’s not smart, at least not in areas beyond finding patterns and categorizing things, neither of which really matters. She’s nice, sure, but “nice” is what people say about someone when all other adjectives are exhausted.

Roxy is so much more than she could ever be. She’s energetic, hilarious, smart, loving... she’s so _alive._ Looking down at her claws, Calliope reflects that she needs a potent talisman even to have a small fraction of Roxy’s life. The talisman in question was even given to her by Roxy, so in a way, she’s just leaching off of that life.

That’s what she’s been doing for the past seven years, isn’t it? Leaching without giving anything back. Now that Roxy’s free of her, she’s so perfect with John. She’s so _happy._ Calliope was wrong to hoard her for so long.

She knew this months ago. That’s why she encouraged Roxy to pursue a relationship with John, that evening in the forest before he decided to stay. That’s why she’s been so supportive of their relationship and has tried to admire how quickly it’s progressed. And that’s why, even though the words burned a hidden part of her soul as they erupted unconsciously from her throat, she volunteered to officiate their wedding: because she wants to prove that, really and truly, she’s fine with all of this. Prove it to Roxy, to John, to herself.

Some people are just meant to be alone.

Before she leaves, Calliope glances toward the living room. An upright piano stands against the far wall. Next to it, on a table, sits an old phonograph, the kind with a giant conch shell horn in faded gold. Roxy has never seen either of these devices. Looking at them now, Calliope can almost hear the music they’ve been playing so often this past month.

_Well, thanks for the trouble you took from her eyes, I thought it was there for good so I never tried..._

She doesn’t bother to lock the door when she leaves. There’s nothing worth taking.

\---

When Calliope helped Roxy move into her new house, John played a few of his dad’s old records. Most of them were peppy and upbeat, or cool and suave. The kind of music one could swing dance to. But one record stood apart from the rest, and it broke Calliope’s heart.

John’s dad had always been a fan of Leonard Cohen. He passed some of that onto his son, though John invariably preferred covers, once describing the original version of ‘Hallelujah’ as “completely unlistenable.” It’s for that reason that he pulled out Tori Amos’ cover of ‘Famous Blue Raincoat.’ The song takes the form of a letter from a man to the person who stole his wife, but the writer has accepted that his wife is happier now and is quietly grateful for it. It was the most hauntingly beautiful thing Calliope had ever heard.

John and Roxy were deep in conversation when they noticed Calliope crying silently to the music. John hurried to turn it off, but Calliope stopped him. She wanted to hear the whole thing.

When the work was done and she had to leave, John let her borrow the record, because he’s a sweet person who does kind things, even for people who don’t deserve them.

Calliope bought a phonograph on the way home from an antique store. It was the heaviest thing she’d ever tried to carry. She struggled to muster enough strength to move it up the stairs, but was eventually able to heft it onto a living room table.

She lost count of how many times she played the record that night.

The next morning, she found herself adrift. Normally she would spend the day playing video games with Roxy, or walking in the park with Roxy, or watching TV with Roxy, or just... existing in Roxy’s presence. Now that all that was no longer an option, she needed to do something to fill her day.

So she bought a piano, and started learning to play the song by ear. She’d never played before, but found learning to do so easier than she expected. And she wasn’t sort on time to practice.

\---

“You’re sure we have the right place?” Dave whispers. “Maybe the motorcade took a wrong turn and ended up at a totally different ginormous gothic cathedral?”

John sighs and rolls his eyes. “Dave, give me a break. It’s only been like two minutes! People have barely found their seats!”

“Yeah, and two minutes is a long time. ‘Specially when you’re waiting for your bride. Just think of aaaaaaall the things that could go wrong...” Dave teases.

The Cathedral of Saint Leijon is lit up with colors this afternoon. The most noticeable feature from the inside is the giant stained glass window above the door. It features a winged cherub with the faces of a human, a troll, a carapacian, and a salamander. The twelve symbols of the Aspects surround its head in a halo, flanked by yellow and purple crescent moons. The window is so bright it almost hurts to look at, but Calliope still finds her eyes wandering to study its detail as she stands behind the pulpit.

The last time Calliope was here, she witnessed the burial of someone she called friend. Today the atmosphere is far more celebratory. But it still feels like saying goodbye.

“I’m pretty sure Karkat once showed me a shitty movie where the bride got ambushed by her real one true love right before entering the church,” Dave continues. “Maybe Roxy’s trading you in for a new model? Like, the inexplicable return of Nic Cage or some other shit designed to force a third act contrivance? Are you going to let yourself be replaced by Nic Cage, John?”

John glares back at him, though his smirk shows he’s clearly taking Dave’s ribbing in stride. “Speaking of replacing people in this ceremony, I’m sure it’s not too late to find another best man. Care to see if Karkat wants to get up here?”

Dave’s a bit flustered by this. “Well, dude, as much as he loves a good rom-com, I’m not sure—”

Calliope sees a flash of white at the cathedral doors. “Quiet, both of you! It’s starting!” she hisses. The two men snap to attention like soldiers caught slacking by their commander.

Calliope gestures to Sir Reginald, the dapper young salamander at the organ, to begin playing the bridal march. He dives into his task with giddy enthusiasm but restrains himself enough to maintain tempo. The audience quiets and all heads turn to the doorway.

Roxy Lalonde walks in, clad in a flowing dress of brilliant white that sparkles with diamonds. Her shoulder-length wavy blonde hair catches and reflects the light. Her thin eyebrows, her sharp cheekbones, and every other part of her face are supernaturally beautiful, and she looks for all the world like an angel descended from heaven.

Her eyes wander over the crowd for a few seconds before they lock onto John’s, but they never meet Calliope’s. She floats down the rose-covered aisle, grinning blissfully the whole time, followed by Jane, her maid of honor. The heads of the crowd all turn to watch her passing. Calliope can’t stop staring at her eyes; once shadowed, they’re now lit from inside by the overwhelming light of her spirit.

The goddess and the maid reach the end of the aisle. They turn to the men. Dave shoots Roxy a thumbs-up, causing Jane to suppress a scowl, the click of saliva in one corner of her mouth the only giveaway. Sir Reginald plays the final bars of his piece, turning to Calliope to gauge her reaction. She gives him a warm smile. He does a little salamander fist-pump before scuttling off to his seat.

The ceremony is about to begin. All the cathedral’s occupants are looking at Calliope now. It even feels like the cathedral itself is looking, the eyes of the figure in the stained glass window glaring down on her from above. Maintaining her composure and remembering to project, she clears her throat and begins to speak.

“Dearly beloved,” she starts, then has to pause. She reminds herself that this has to be perfect, because Roxy deserves nothing less. Any slip-ups or shows of indecision would bring shame to her. Methodically, with all the mannerisms and affectations of speech she rehearsed for days on end, she continues.

“We are gathered here today to witness the union of our two dear friends, John and Roxy. You may know them as the champions of Breath and Void. The master of stories and the slayer of tyrants. The dual leaders of the creators.” — Roxy chuckles at this. — “The immortal and beautiful gods who walk amongst us lowly mortals. But to those fortunate enough to call them friends, they are even more.

“Roxy is the light of my life,” she continues, turning to the bride. “She believed in me when no one else could and gave me the strength to carry on. She risked her own soul to save mine, then saved the future of Earth C with a thrust of her blade.” Roxy flushes demurely as Calliope speaks, like she always does when confronted with the praise she deserves.

“And John is her savior in turn,” Calliope says, turning to him, “from the timeline strangled in the arachnid’s grip. It was he who lifted her from that perdition, he who gave her the Ring of Life which she passed on to me, and he who ensured we both had a world to come back to.” John half-grins and scratches the back of his head.

Returning her gaze to the audience, Calliope continues with “Each of us owes them a debt which can never be repaid, none more so than I. But I can start by joining them in holy matrimony.

“Marriage is a sacred institution. It is the eternal joining of two souls. It is a promise between two people to honour their love, trust in their love, and trust in each other, even unto death. Given its weight, such a promise must not be entered into lightly or frivolously.” — John’s eyebrows knit briefly at this, but the rest of his face remains unaffected. — “Therefore, if anyone has cause to object to this union...”

Calliope pauses and takes a long, deep breath through her nose. Here it is. The point of no return. If any hope remains for that buried part of her that selfishly wants Roxy all to herself, it’s about to disappear forever.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Calliope looks over the faces of the gathered crowd. Rose and Kanaya are smiling gently in support. Karkat, having forgotten his cantankerous façade for a moment, is on the verge of tears at this romantic display. Jade has a big goofy grin on her face. Jake’s expression is hard to read, but he seems happy as well. And it’s clear that Jane’s father is bursting with proud fatherly admiration, even though his face never really changes.

Finally, Calliope’s gaze settles on Gamzee. Her feelings toward him are... complicated. She’s never told anyone the truth, not even herself, since doing so would mean acknowledging... she doesn’t know the word for it, but she can’t think too deeply about that either. But she’s fine thinking of him as a silly clown who’s fun to be around. Nothing more meaningful. Certainly nothing to worry about today.

None of the guests in the back would dare interrupt, and the best man and maid of honor have no cause to. The groom looks overwhelmed but excited, and the bride — the beautiful, beautiful bride — is overflowing with love toward her husband-to-be.

No voices are raised. No objections are made.

And why would there be? These two are perfect for each other. They’ll make each other very happy, forever, much more so than anyone else could. It’s the best pairing for everyone involved. Any thoughts to the contrary would simply be petty hubris.

Calliope notices that Roxy’s glancing at her. She fears those fuschia eyes can see right into her spiteful, pathetic, tiny soul. Almost hurrying, she moves on.

“John and Roxy, please face each other as you declare your sacred vows toward one another in the presence of your family and friends. Roxy, you may start.”

Roxy breathes, then shakes herself in preparation for her speech.

“John... I love you,” she begins. “I’ve loved you ever since you showed up at my kickass green cube pyramid seven years ago, and I’ll love you until we die, which might be never. To be honest, that’s less of a vow than it is just a totally factual statement. Nothing you could ever do would make me stop loving you with my whole heart.”

Until this moment, Calliope didn’t know how far back Roxy’s affections went. Judging by his expression, John didn’t either. But it’s only natural that destined lovers would fall for each other instantly. The signs were there from the start; she should have heeded them.

“When you decided to stay on Earth with me, it was the happiest moment of my life. Second only to this moment now. You’re so sweet, and earnest, and goofy, and wonderful, and it means the universe to me that you want me in your life. There’s nothing I can do to make up for all the happiness you’ve brought me.”

Calliope thinks back to the picnic on John’s birthday. She recalls the indescribable way she felt when Roxy launched herself at John. Even she hadn’t expected Roxy’s reaction to be quite so strong, but ever since that day... Roxy’s never looked at anybody the way she looks at John. There’s no casualness or hesitation there. Just true love, deep love, pure love. The kind of love she could never have with anyone else.

“But I can try,” Roxy continues. “You want some vows? Here’s some goddamn vows: I vow to always be ready with a big hug or a sloppy kiss whenever you need. I vow to laugh at your cornball jokes and try to learn Ghostbusters lore. I vow to spoil our kids rotten and give ‘em all the motherly love in the world.

“In return for all that... all you need to do is be yourself, and I know that’ll be enough.” A tear forms in the corner of her eye as she chokes on her last words. “Just like I know we’re gonna be happy forever. ‘Til death do us part.” She grins widely and wipes the tear away.

Calliope feels like crying, too. For appreciation of the speech’s beauty, of course, and for no other reason. Roxy delivered it with such passion and grace, and it’s not clear whether she even had to rehearse it. She’s just such a natural at expressing her love.

“Uh, wow,” John stammers, following a sweep of Calliope’s upturned palm. “I have to be honest, I’m a little intimidated now. That was really good.” Roxy giggles at John’s deep blush.

After a few seconds, John begins his speech. It’s a little halting, showing clear signs of extensive prior rehearsal. “Roxy...” he says, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You’re smart, spunky, sweet, and... a bunch of other good things which begin with ‘S’?” Even this trail off was clearly planned, though it draws another giggle from Roxy nonetheless.

“For the longest time, I thought I didn’t know what I wanted to happen between us,” he continues. “I thought I was resigned to letting you go your own way, or something like that.”

Calliope had thought he was, too.

“But now I think it was just that I didn’t feel worthy of you. You’re basically my perfect girl and I still can’t believe you feel so strongly about me!”

Calliope can’t either.

“It feels like a dream, but if it is, I don’t want to wake up.”

Calliope _does_ want to—

Calliope catches herself. She needs to tamper down any resentment she might be feeling. John’s been unfailingly kind to her, he’s done nothing to earn it. Even if he had, Roxy wouldn’t want Calliope to be upset. She wouldn’t deserve that conflict in her life.

“So here are my vows,” John says. “I vow to always make you feel special. I vow to be a good husband and father. I vow to keep doing whatever it is I do that makes you love me. And when you say we’ll be happy forever... I vow to believe you. ‘Til death do us part.”

It’s not as powerful as Roxy’s speech, but it is simple and heartfelt. It’s just stilting enough to be clear it was given by John while remaining mostly smooth. And it does show how important Roxy is to him. For her part, Roxy is beginning to cry.

Calliope smiles thinly, then turns to Dave. “Would the best man please present the rings?”

Dave walks forward and summons the rings from the ether. When John slides his on, he simply lowers his arm back to his side; when Roxy slides hers on, she holds her hand up to her face and examines it from both sides. The rings are silver and studded with tiny diamonds, with one larger diamond inscribed with the couple’s initials. They’re pretty. Far prettier than the bland, featureless gold ring around Calliope’s own finger.

The bride and groom stare at each other lovingly. There’s no more delaying; it’s time to seal the deal.

“John, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?” Calliope asks.

“I do.”

“Roxy, do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”

“Fuck yeah!” she grins, eliciting a chuckle from the audience.

“Then by the power invested in me by the Carapace Kingdom...”

Calliope feels like a skydiver who never pulled the parachute and has fallen to mere feet above the ground. Anything she did now would just make the crash even messier. She’s been leaning into her descent the entire way, and that’s what she’s continuing to do now. It’s hardly even a conscious process. Just a gradual tumbling down, until the end.

“I hereby pronounce you husband and wife!”

_Splat._

“John, you may now kiss the bride.”

John sweeps his wife up in his arms. Roxy presses her mouth against her husband’s so forcefully it’s like she’s trying to suck it off his face. They embrace tightly. Their forms melt into each other.

In the distance, the bell tower chimes a solitary time. It’s a flat, gray sound, not of sadness, but of hollowness.

The four-faced cherub continues to glare at Calliope from on high, judging her for her sins.

When the pair finally separates, they hold hands and face the audience, and Calliope delivers the final line.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great honour that I officially present to you John and Roxy Egbert!”

She smiles. What else can she do?

The applause is deafening. Everyone’s so excited to see these two finally joined together, like they were always supposed to be. There are cheers, and whoops, and what sounds like a dog’s howl from Jade. John and Roxy raise their hands and exchange loving glances.

‘Roxy Egbert’ isn’t as elegant as ‘Roxy Lalonde,’ but it has a nice ring to it nevertheless, Calliope thinks. She’d better get used to saying it, because it’ll be her friend’s name forever. And a friend is all she’ll ever be. That’s all she can be now, thanks to Calliope.

It’s done.

\---

The reception passes without incident. The dinner is tasty, though not quite sweet enough. The cake, prepared by Jane, is a masterpiece that Calliope feels bad for just breathing on. Throughout the afternoon and evening, Calliope smiles and makes pleasant chit-chat with the other attendees, but never gets wrapped too deeply in any one conversation. When the dancing starts, she decides to avoid seeing John and Roxy be sweet together for any longer than she has to, and slips out of the hall unnoticed.

Her apartment is several miles away, and her legs are short, but she walks home. It’s a warm night.

She does her best not to think about anything during the walk.

When she finally gets home and climbs up the stairs, she loosens her tie and takes off her suit jacket, then flicks on the light in the living room. The piano and phonograph are still there. She walks over to the piano bench and sits down.

About two minutes pass before she lifts the cover.

She’s never liked the sound of her voice. It’s always too high and squeaky, but coarse at the same time, like she’s breathing helium mixed with gravel. She’s never sung along to [her song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMSbICWbjBw) before because she hoped to accompany someone with a more pleasant voice, like Roxy or Jane or Rose, but right now... there’s no one around to laugh, or to scowl, or to smile pleasantly and hide their embarrassment.

The prelude lasts about a minute, lengthened slightly when Calliope loops a few measures out of fear to begin performing, even though she has no audience. Finally, she begins to sing.

“It’s four in the morning, the end of December...”

She winces at the first few words. Her breathy, unpleasant voice can never compare to that of the woman on the phonograph.

“I’m writing you now to see if you’re better... New York is cold but I like where I’m living, there’s music on Clinton Street all through the evening...”

Calliope was never a connoisseur of music, but she always loved when Roxy would drag her out to one of the many local jazz bars or nightclubs to see who was performing. She tried visiting those same locales once or twice after Roxy left. The lights always seemed dimmer and the music always seemed more flat.

“I hear that you’re building your little house deep in the desert... You’re living for nothing now, hope you’re keeping some kind of record...”

Calliope’s thoughts idly turn to John. He always seemed happiest when given a purpose, whether it was winning the game or winning Roxy’s hand, and isolated himself when he thought he had nothing to do; how will he fare now that, once again, all his goals have been achieved? She doesn’t wonder for long, because Roxy is with him, so he’ll be fine no matter what happens.

“Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair... She said that you gave it to her...”

It’s not Jane who comes to mind when Calliope sings this lyric. It’s Roxy. Specifically, an image of Roxy on the day of the picnic, crying into John’s hair in ecstasy when he decided to stay. Calliope remembers smiling when she did. Not out of happiness, exactly.

“On the night that you planned to go clear... Did you ever go clear?”

If Rose is right, then John choosing to stay means that he’s given up all ties to canonicity. Calliope has her doubts. But again, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Last time I saw you, you looked so much older, your famous blue raincoat torn at the shoulder...”

Calliope was surprised to see how much John had physically matured in the past seven years. He’d always been an attractive boy, but now he was almost as gorgeous as Roxy herself, and he’d put on several pounds of muscle and inches of height. She was so envious of his ability to grow and change, when she knew she would be stuck inside her tiny body forever. His clothes looked more worn and ragged, though; even his Breath hoodie seemed faded.

“Been to the station to meet every train, you came home alone without Lili Marlene...”

Calliope’s hands dance across the piano, playing smoothly and soulfully, in stark contrast to the ugly squeaks from her throat. It took ages to even find the right notes for each measure, and even longer to train their rhythms in her brain through repetition. These last few weeks, she spent more time practicing than not, but tonight the song sounds entirely new somehow.

“You treated my woman to a flake of your life... And when she came back, she was nobody’s wife...”

She is, though. Calliope saw to that.

Just a few weeks with John, and Roxy already knew she wanted to spend eternity with him. Calliope lived with her for seven years, but Roxy didn’t see enough in her to stay.

“Well, I see you there with a rose in your teeth... One more thin wand’ring thief...”

The original lyric wasn’t ‘wand’ring.’ Calliope didn’t feel comfortable saying it, so she made a substitution. She’s not sure it evokes the right feeling, and briefly wonders if she should have used ‘rambling’ or ‘roaming’ or something different. Something to worry about later, though.

“I see Jane’s awake... She sends her regards...”

As the instrumental break begins, Calliope wonders what John and Roxy are doing right now. Their reception was scheduled to finish a while ago. It’s their wedding night, so they’re probably having sex. That image conjures a frustrated cocktail of emotions inside Calliope that she couldn’t begin to describe.

It’s one more reason that she could never have been the right choice for Roxy, because Roxy is a human who has basic physical desires, and Calliope is the one sentient creature on Earth C who doesn’t. The only way she could mate is by transforming into a snake large enough to swallow the planet without noticing. Hardly a marker for sexual compatibility. And really, she can’t even do that, because her body will never progress past adolescence. She’s a freak among freaks.

Calliope flubs one of the left hand chords. Her claws click harshly against the plastic of the keys. She pauses for a moment to recollect herself before continuing the song.

“What can I tell you, my brother, my killer? What can I possibly say?”

She still thinks about Caliborn sometimes. He was a monster, but even after everything he did, she doesn’t completely hate him. She remembers trying to be friends with him and getting repeatedly distressed when her efforts were rebuffed. She enjoyed their games, and was looking forward to playing Sburb with him, right up until he betrayed her and murdered her. Sometimes part of her longs for the simpler days with him, uncaring that those days were miserable and lonely.

“Hey, I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you, I’m glad you stood in my way...”

Until recently, Calliope had accepted that her tribulations at Caliborn’s hands were necessary for her to get to her current point in life. Now... was that really a price worth paying?

“If you ever come by, for Jane or for me... Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free...”

Calliope’s not sure when her eyes began to water, but they’re certainly watering. Maybe that’s what she intended when she sat down to play.

“Well, thanks for the trouble you took from her eyes, I thought it was there for good so I never tried...”

Roxy’s free now. John’s freed her. Calliope should be grateful, and part of her is, but the rest of her just wishes...

Mucus starts to collect in her sinuses, and she starts to sniffle. Her voice chokes up and loses the key of the song. She feels like she’s drowning, trapped in a prison of her own making, clawing desperately to be free but only entangling herself further.

“And Roxy came by with a lock of your hair...”

Substituting the name wasn’t a conscious decision. When Calliope realizes that she did, her tears start flowing freely. The notes on the piano lose their rhythm, and the notes from her throat become nearly unrecognizable.

“She said that you gave it to her... On the night that you planned to go clear...”

Her playing slows, and eventually stops two measures from the end, like a marathoner passing out at the 26 mile mark. Sobbing, Calliope lets her leaden arms drop to her sides and crashes her forehead against the piano.

There’s only three chords left in the song, but she doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters, nothing at all.

The final line goes ‘Sincerely, L. Cohen,’ even when Tori Amos sings it. That doesn’t matter either. Cohen is long dead, Amos is long dead, there’s no one to complain. She can’t put another person’s name on what she’s feeling, so she musters her little remaining strength to let out two more words in a warbling, breathless tone.

“Sincerely, Calliope...”

The song is over.

Her sobs and sniffles are the only applause.

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t know when she will. She doesn’t know if she will.

When Calliope was young, Caliborn would take over their shared body whenever she went to sleep. This meant that the body was awake and active at all times, never running out of energy due to the innumerable quirks of her species’ freakish nature. Her brother is gone now, but the nature of her body remains the same.

The nights were lonely and long even when Roxy was here. Without her...

Calliope knows she can’t love. It’s a simple fact of her biology, something that no amount of wishing can overcome. All she can do, she reflects as she bangs her head against the piano, is hate.

She hates who she is. She hates what she is. She hates the chances she’s missed, the love she’s lost, the life she’s wasted, the happiness she’ll forever be a stranger to.

Above all, she hates how she can’t even cry herself to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> 11sheepish11 created a fantastic drawing inspired by the final scene! [Check it out!](https://twitter.com/11sheepish11/status/1218681820570669057?s=19)
> 
> If you came here from Through Shadowed Eyes: [Back to Chapter 11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972756/chapters/53198626) | [Forward to Chapter 12](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972756/chapters/53741812)


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